


It Comes With the Job

by thethirdwxy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-War, but this idea wouldn’t stop plaguing me, i can’t write properly, possessive Lucius
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23419855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethirdwxy/pseuds/thethirdwxy
Summary: Hermione Granger. Winter Gala. Possessive Lucius. In short; a small drabble that was stuck inside my head and took me all of 15 minutes to write; but it’s Lumione, so does that excuse it?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy
Comments: 2
Kudos: 104





	It Comes With the Job

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first time i’ve ever written lumione. well, the first time i’ve written lumione and actually published it. i adore the pairing and thought i’d jot this little ficlet down while stuck in quarantine :D

It was times like these, Hermione Jean Granger, junior assistant to the Minister for Magic, really despised her job. For three hours, she’d entertained Kingsley Shacklebolt’s tedious business contacts, some of them from other departments within the ministry, and nearly  _ all  _ of them older men with wandering eyes, not to mention hands. 

If it wasn’t for her influential position and her presence being absolutely paramount for the famed Winter Gala, she would have been at home by now, fluffy pyjamas, lounging on the sofa by the fire, Crookshanks curled up at her feet while she delved into her latest purchase from Flourish and Blotts. 

She adored working for the Ministry most of the time, she really did. Not only did it come with various perks, such as the beautiful London townhouse she’d acquired through a plethora of professional contacts, and the beautiful places abroad she’d visited on business trips, but it brought her great satisfaction to be able to immerse more of the Wizarding world in muggle culture. The use of various muggle appliances, such as desk computers and standard ink pens instead of feather quills, had been normalised within the Ministry and most of the Wizarding establishments over the years. The project was backed by one very enthusiastic Arthur Weasley, as well as the head of the Muggle Liason Office, Nicholas Park. 

It was normal now for her to be able to send a quick text to Harry and Draco, who had recently wedded, letting them both know she’d be coming over in 10 minutes for their weekly dinner together. Even the Slytherin Prince himself had allowed his husband to show him how muggle technology worked. It had taken him a few weeks (and countless raunchy texts that were meant for Harry that Hermione had been on the receiving end of) to operate his new mobile phone, but so far, he’d come to love living  _ almost _ like a Muggle. 

Draco had insisted he would never use a standard electrical hair-dryer, or the styling wax Harry picked up from the local shop, arguing it ’didn’t achieve the volume or texture that a drying and styling charm could’.  _ Bloody Malfoy’s and their bloody hair.  _

No matter how much she was grateful that her newfound position within the ministry had allowed her to achieve a lifelong dream, she really hated the countless social events that came with it. While Hermione could hold a pleasant conversation in the name of business, she’d always left the talking to Ron and Harry in their Hogwarts days, and so much preferred the ‘ _ behind the scenes _ ’ approach; but when Kingsley threw a big gala for every sodding regulation that was passed, it was becoming increasingly difficult to hide away in her office and allow the Minister to take control of the social aspects. 

Taking another small sip from the delicate champagne flute she held in her hand, her eyes scanned the ornate room for that familiar face. She’d been away from her date to the gala for only an hour, but she was hoping he’d appear at her side imminently, whisking her away from the dull conversation with another of Kingsley’s pompous guests. 

“What about you Hermione?” 

She jumped slightly, having been snapped out of the trance-like state she’d adopted when she had zoned out many minutes ago. Kingsley Shacklebolt looked at her expectantly, as did the man on her left, a shorter, portly man with a thick grey moustache and balding head. 

“My apologies, Kingsley, I was woolgathering. What was the question?” She asked sweetly, feigning interest. 

“Mr. Avery was just commenting on the excellent hosting of this important event tonight. Having done most of the planning, I was wondering what you thought of the gala so far?” 

_ Well, Minister, I think I’d rather be sitting in my office, watching paint dry, or trying to bathe Crookshanks knowing he hates being cleaned immensely.  _

“Oh it’s been wonderful so far, Minister. The Winter Ball has been a sacred event in the Wizarding world for many years, I was just pleased that my planning could bring it some justice..” Hermione replied, plastering a smile across her features at the two men in front of her. 

“You’ve done more than that Hermione, it’s truly spectacular, although I would have expected nothing less from a brilliant witch such as yourself!” Mr. Avery boomed, a pudgy hand coming to rest on the shoulder that was bare due to the strappy garment Harry insisted would look ‘ _ bloody hot’  _ on her. 

Eyes flitting briefly to the warmth on her bare skin, she let out a forced laugh at the compliment. 

“I’m not sure I’m quite all that, Mr. Avery..” the young witch started. 

“Nonsense!” The older man chuckled, and Hermione was acutely aware that the same hand that had come to rest on her shoulder was now moving further down her back to rest between her shoulder blades. Making an internal noise of disgust, she attempted to create space between her and the older man, but Avery had quickly gotten hold of her arm, pulling her closer as the mask of serenity she wore fell for the briefest of moments.  _ Another sodding perv.  _

“Kingsley is always singing your praises! And you are the youngest junior minister in over a century, surely that speaks volumes!” Mr. Avery continued, his hand now trailing lower to the small of her back. 

The Minister, not sensing his young assistants unease at his business partners closeness, laughed heartily. 

“She certainly works hard, some days I have to coax her out of the office to take a break!” Shacklebolt grinned, as another forced giggle fell from Hermione’s lips. 

“Ah, efficient, smart and beautiful? No wonder so many people have sung your praise, my dear.”

No sooner had Avery spoken, that bloody hand was moving again. Her eyes went wide, sensing where it’s final destination would be, but before she could be absolutely certain, the scent of a particular spicy cologne she’d become accustomed to in the past year floated through her nostrils, and before she could register anything else, a large hand wrapped around her waist, as she felt herself being pulled possessively into a hard body. 

Glancing briefly upwards, she was met with the signature smirk of one Lucius Malfoy, grey eyes glinting as he pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead. 

“Ah, Lucius, what a pleasure to see you here tonight!” Kingsley exclaimed, as Lucius held the hand that wasn’t wrapped round Hermione’s waist out to greet the minister in a firm handshake. 

“Kingsley, I wouldn’t miss the Winter Gala for the world..” He drawled, flashing a quick smile at the older man. 

“Yes, marvellous occasion-and this is my associate, Mr Phineas Avery..” Kingsley said jovially, as Hermione noticed the smile on Lucius’ face become a little bit more forced as he turned to greet his shorter counterpart. 

“A pleasure, I assume you’ve already become acquainted with my lovely girlfriend?” While his demeanour altered ever so slightly, his clipped, aristocratic tones didn’t falter, and Hermione smirked inwardly at the brief shock that graced the man’s rounded face. 

“Oh, er-yes, of course. Brilliant witch, fantastic!” Avery replied, quickly composing himself, nonetheless still shifting uncomfortably as he spoke. 

Lucius obviously noticed his cagey reaction, but instead of returning his attention to the gala, he pulled Hermione closer to his body, the same smirk gracing his patrician features. 

“Oh she is, truly. Sorry I missed the first part of your conversation, I had to get myself something to drink, but I much prefer to be by my partners side for social events like this, as she attracts a lot of attention, quite often the victim of  _ wandering hands _ ..” Lucius punctuated the last two words of his sentence carefully, as Hermione almost snorted as she noticed Avery’s awkward stance increase tenfold, as he shoved his hands in the pinstriped trousers pockets. 

“Ah, yes well, we wouldn’t want that, very unprofessional..” The shorter man agreed, his replies becoming much more brief and quieter as Lucius’ piercing stare bore into the side of his head. 

There was an awkward silence between the four, as the delicate swing music echoed around the large ballroom, before the man beside her cleared his throat. 

“Well, gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure talking to you for this short time, but I’m afraid my partner and I are long overdue for a dance..” He said, bowing slightly as Kingsley, before taking the younger witch’s hand and leading her gracefully to the middle of the room, already littered with dancing couples. 

Only when Lucius led her into an effortless waltz did she let her giggles emerge, as she buried her face into his strong chest. 

“And what, pray tell, do you find so funny?” Lucius purred, his lips ghosting the shell of her ear, his tone laced with amusement. 

“Oh Lucius, did you see his face! You embarrassed him!” Hermione chuckled, gazing at her boyfriend's face as a calculated smile spread across his lips. 

“And so he should be. I saw where his hands were going, and I didn’t like it. He has no business anywhere near your body anyway..” 

His words combined with the seductive purr he emitted as he spoke softly sent a pleasant shiver through Hermione’s body as he twirled her round the floor gracefully. 

“Is that a hint of jealousy I hear, Mr. Malfoy?” Hermione teased, as she threw him an impish smile. 

He smirked once more, closing any remaining distance between their bodies. She gasped softly as she made contact with his hard frame.

“You are the most stunning woman here tonight, Hermione, I’m shocked you’ve only just realised my subtle acts of possessiveness..” 

“Subtle?” Hermione laughed, raising an eyebrow at the blonde wizard. 

He pretended to ponder her last statement, before pressing his lips to hers. It was gentle, yet incredibly passionate as their mouths melded together. Hermione was sure her knees would have buckled if his grip on her had not been so tight. 

“Maybe not subtle..” he murmured, nipping her earlobe playfully. “But I want everyone here to know that I shall be the one taking you home to see what’s under that delectable dress you’re wearing..” 

She smacked him playfully as they continued to waltz, before sharing another kiss as the music subsided. 

It was times like these, Hermione Jean Granger, junior assistant to the Minister for Magic, realised her job wasn’t actually that bad. 


End file.
